


When the Speckled Shells Lie

by chaiitea



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Multi, Original Characters - Freeform, Post-Canon, RiverClan (Warriors), RiverClan-Centered, ShadowClan (Warriors), Spicy, ThunderClan (Warriors), WindClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaiitea/pseuds/chaiitea
Summary: The Clans have fallen on hard times, far, far into the future. What remains of the fading StarClan looks down in dismay at their descendants, wondering how they’d fallen so far. How had they come to this dark place? Tradition has been spat on and wiped away, as hard times and even harder cats have risen to power. Rules have been rewritten, wars have been quelled with harsh paws and snarled words. The sexes are no longer equal. One is forced to serve, the other reaping the untold benefits.Of course – someone must right this wrong. Sometime. Right?





	When the Speckled Shells Lie

**Author's Note:**

> hey this is my first time posting on here so uhhhh please have some patience w/ me haha. hope you enjoy the fic, or at least find it interesting haha

Hawkkit cracked open his luminous green eyes, gaze flittering around the nursery. The sun had shone through the dense bramble thickets, resting in dappled patterns on both cats and ground. It bounced on the shells that littered the nursery floor and had settled on his eyes, jerking him from his sleep. He took a yawning breath, accidentally inhaling some of his mother’s tickly, soft fur, then sneezed. Getting to his paws, he stretched, opening his small pink mouth in a giant yawn, clacking his teeth together at the end of it.

Now he was really awake.

Hawkkit whirled around, marching over to his mother’s face, little tawny tabby tail as stiff as a stick. He patted at her large ears with a white paw. “Mama?” he whispered, “Mamaaaaa-” The she-cat didn’t hear him. Instead, she sighed deeply in her sleep, ears twitching ever so slightly. “Mama?” he tilted his head, face wrinkled tightly in concern.

He decided it was time for more drastic measures.

“MAMA. WAKE UP,” he mewled, swatting at her nose and whiskers, trying to keep his claws sheathed. And it worked. Her tawny golden eyes opened, though only in slits. She groaned, squinting at her kit, then yawned, rubbing at the side of her face with a paw.

“Hawkkit, how many times have I told you to not wake me up?”

He cowered, looking down at the ground, “I’m sorry, mama. But I wanna play!”

She groaned again, “I don’t have time to play with you. I have things to do-” 

“Pllleeeaaseee, mama. Please?” Hawkkit’s whiskers drooped.

“You can play with the other toms. StarClan knows, you’re old enough. For shame, a big kit of seven moons like you still playing with his mother’s tail and tagging along like a she-cat. Grow up already.”

He pouted, “But I don’t wannaaa play with Shellkit and Icekit. And Shorefur won’t let me play with Wavekit-”

“Is Wavekit a tom?”

“N-no-”

“Then leave her be. You shouldn’t bother her,” Hawkkit’s mother snapped.

“Oh-okay mama,” he whimpered.

Her demeanor softened slightly, “Look- go find something else to do. Go- I don’t know, play with something. You’re a big kit. Why don’t you go and see if you can find some pretty shells to play with, mkay. Maybe you can win favor with some of your camp-mates. You’ll need it when you get older, anyways. Run along to the stream and find some, alright.”

His face brightened and he nodded. “Okay mama, I’ll look for the brightest and most colorfulest shells!” he bounced out of the nursery, carelessly, fur snagging on the bramble thorns. His mother sighed. Shorefur looked up from the other side of the nursery, irritated that she had been awakened by Hawkkit’s noisy chattering. Curled up beside her was her pride and joy, Wavekit, who mimicked her every action.

“You’re too easy on that tom of yours, Minnowwhisker. If I were you, I’d have beaten the childish innocence out of him a long time ago.” Shorefur’s anguine blue eyes drilled holes into Minnowwisker as she clicked her tongue, “And the fact that he’s whole? You’re just asking for trouble from the Clans.”

Minnowwhisker sneered, “I don’t see a point in crippling a kit like that, especially not one who’s as dull witted as he is. He’s too stupid to try and run away anyways, so it’s not like having all four legs working would be an advantage.”

Shorefur smiled, “Too bad he’s not of good breeding stock, with that thick head of his. Must say something about his sire?”

“Don’t you dare, pet scum,” she hissed, “You don’t know what it is to have a good mate. I doubt you could even stand half a run with one of our hearty toms. That’s why most of your spawn died in leaf-bare, because their father was a weakling and so are you.”

She bristled, hackles rising, “How dare you! I’m a Clan member just as much as you are. Lilystar said so!”

“Yet moons later, you hardly hunt, you can’t patrol, and all you do is sit in the nursery, filling up the place with your domesticated stench.” Minnowwhisker sniffed, “Your coat isn’t even suited for leaf-bare hunting, with those smuts of brown on your pelt. And you act like you know the Code and how to live. So don’t criticize my son.”

“Your _offspring,_ ” Shorefur spat, digging into the dirt with her claws, “And I’m not Clan-born but at least I know the difference between a good choice and a bad one!”

“The only good decision you ever made was to stay inside and leave the _real_ cats to the hunting. And you messed that up too. Now you’re going to taint our blood with your line. Disgraceful.”

“How dare you! Lilystar thought it was a good idea to let me in. You know why? You need fresh blood, you’re weakening. You have no real kits, look at how many of your she-kits have died.” She smirked, “You’re too prideful to admit it.”

“At least I had the sense to tend to my kits, rather than abandon them,” Minnowwhisker glared, “And I think Lilystar is getting old and daft. She must have been trying to make a warrior out of a shell, not a useless rabbit like you. At least a shell wouldn’t have whined so much.” She got up, “You need to remember your place, Shorefur. And If you can’t, then I’ll make you remember.” Minnowwhisker stalked out of the nursery, sullen.

Shorefur smiled in victory, wagging her head as she nuzzled Wavekit, “Stupid molly.”

**xXx**

Hawkkit stumbled by the small stream that ran by the camp. He waded in, sticking close to the shore, clumsy white paws stamping over the silt and sand, clouding the water. Sighing, he sat down in the water, staring at the streambed, trying to see the rocks. When the water was reasonably see through, he squinted at it, trying to see if there was anything interesting embedded between the stones. No, no shells. Stepping carefully, he scouted through the streams, hopes high.

He screwed up his eyes to try and shut out the light that bounced harshly off the water, trying to see if he could spot any shells or shiny rocks.

No- no… No? What was that?

Just a piece of white, oddly shaped twoleg junk. It was shiny, but pliable. His fangs left indents when he picked it up to taste it.

Hawkkit spat it out and made a face at the strange flavor. He continued on his search.

No shells. No rocks. He felt like he’d been searching for hours and hours and days and days. But he’d promised he’d find one. Or he thought he had, anyways. So onward, forward. Hawkkit looked diligently, big paws stumbling over the bed.

And then he found it. The perfect shell. It was round and large, like a cone, barely fitting in his mouth. The surface was covered with dark speckles lined up in neat rows. It was a good shell. He knew mama was going to finally be proud of him this time. He set it down on the shore and climbed out, shaking his paws delicately.

Then a shadow fell over his face. He looked up, confused and rather scared. A larger she-cat towered over him, her dark tabby pelt glistening from the water. She smiled, trying to disarm him.

“Hey, Hawkkit.”

“Hey- Ripplepaw,” he murmured, cowering, “Please don’t hurt me, it wasn’t my idea, it was my mom’s I swear I didn’t mean to-”

Ripplepaw laughed, “Why would I hurt you?”

Hawkkit looked up, eyes wide, “B-because tom-kits aren’t supposed to be out of camp. Right?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to hurt you. You’ll probably g-” Her eyes settled on the shell at his paws, “What’ve you got there?”

“O-oh this? It’s a shell I found. Isn’t it pretty?”

“Very pretty, very pretty…” Ripplepaw pursed her lips, “Tell you what, Hawkkit? You can give me that shell, and I won’t tell anyone that you followed the stream out of camp.”

“Uh-um. Okay. Here, take it.” He sniffed, “I didn’t really- want it anyways.” He batted it her way, and she waved her tail gratefully, eyes flashing with a spark of something Hawkkit couldn’t identify. Happiness? He hoped. Maybe.

“Thanks, kit.” She patted it with a paw and smirked, “I appreciate it, won’t forget it. Gotta go.” She picked up the shell in her mouth, waving her tail, “Shee oo, Hawkie.” Ripplepaw vanished, almost as soon as she had appeared. Hawkkit sat, dumbly, staring at where she’d gone.

“That was- weird,” he mumbled, getting to his feet, “Wonder- why she’d wanted it?” Then Hawkkit shook himself, “Better go find mama.” He bounded after Ripplepaw, questions swirling through his mind like raindrops in a storm.

**xXx**

Lilystar stirred as she heard a cat picking their way through her bramble den. She yawned slowly, and stood up, stretching. She blinked against the light, eyes half-lidded to shut out the sun and make out her guest. Then, she smiled.

“Daughter, welcome. What brings you here?”

Ripplepaw bent down and dropped the shell at Lilystar’s paws, saying nothing and staring at her intentionally.

The gesture wasn’t lost on the old cat, who looked down at it critically. She batted it with a paw, “Really, Ripplepaw? Aren’t you just a bit small in moons for a tom to ask to court you? I mean, I suppose it is a welcome sign. You are a striking cat and I’m not getting younger in waiting for grandkits. But all the same, you’re rather- young.”

“Mother,” Ripplepaw said importantly, “I’m old enough to decide, surely. I’m ten moons old-”

Wheezing chuckles and laughter devolved into incessant coughing and hacking; leaving Lilystar gasping for breath over what her daughter had said. Her eyes teared with mirth, “You haven’t even seen the seasons run their full course- and you decide-” more coughing laughter, “You decide that you’re old enough to take a tom?” Lilystar snorted, “StarClan above, kit. Next thing I know, you’ll be collecting more.”

Ripplepaw’s whiskers twitched irritably, “Mother, I’m serious. I’ve reached maturity, and I want a mate.”

“I’m serious too. I know what it was like to be an apprentice, but you’ll have to wait. You don’t want _a_ mate, you want _to_ mate. Those are different.”

“No they’re not,” Ripplepaw muttered under her breath.

“Trust me, kit. You can find anyone And who is this mystery tom anyways? I would like to know who you’re with before I say yes.”

“That’s not important.”

“Yes, it rather is.”

“But-”

“No. That’s my final answer, Ripple.”

“But motherrrrrr-”

“Don’t ‘mother’ me, kit. My decision is final.” Ripplepaw sulked, head drooping. “There, there, kit. Don’t fuss. One day, you’ll get it. But not now. Focus on your training and getting to your ceremony. You’re almost there, anyways.” Lilystar’s lips curved upward slightly, “One day, when you become a warrior’s queen, you’ll get what you want, and so much more.”

“Okay…” Ripplepaw muttered, still not moving.

“Is there anything else, kit?”

She looked up and sighed, “No, mother. Thank you.” She turned tail and left indignantly, huffing. Lilystar chuckled, batting at the shell again.

“Young she-cats…”


End file.
